Canadian Escapee Gives TV Documentary Bad Review--It Lands Her Back in Jail

It was almost a case of life imitating television.

On the night a major television documentary disclosed her life of crime and punishment, escaped Canadian prisoner Marilyn St. Pierre was recognized, rearrested and sent back behind bars.

“I wanted to be with my family--I wanted to share it (the TV show) with them,” the 34-year-old convict said after her capture Jan. 11 near Windsor, Ontario.

The Canadian Broadcasting Corp.’s 90-minute documentary about her life in and out of prison had just ended when the police arrived.

St. Pierre had been on the run for 16 months after fleeing from the Vanier Correctional Institute in Brampton while on a day pass. She hitchhiked across the U.S.-Canadian border and lived with her American husband in Detroit, where she took a job at a McDonald’s restaurant.

But four years earlier during a previous sentence at Kingston Prison for Women, she had given her consent to Emmy-award-winning CBC producer John Kastner to film a documentary about her life behind bars and her bid for parole.

Had to Give Up Infant Son

The emotion-charged documentary, which ends with St. Pierre breaking parole and having to give up her baby son, was broadcast nationwide on Jan. 11.

The program was given great prominence and St. Pierre’s picture was on the cover of Canada’s TV Guide.

Wanting to see the show with her father and aunt who live near the border city of Windsor, St. Pierre crossed the river from Detroit to join them.

But the group went out for a pizza before the program and St. Pierre was recognized. Tipped by an anonymous caller, police arrived to arrest St. Pierre but let her go when a computer failed to produce the necessary warrant.

Instead of heading for cover, St. Pierre went to her aunt’s house, where she watched the documentary. Two hours later police arrived, this time armed with a warrant.

“Deep down inside many times I wanted to just come over (the border) and say, ‘Hey, that’s it.’ I was tired of running. You get tired,” St. Pierre told the Canadian network after her capture.

“But I didn’t have the guts to say, ‘Here I am,’ because I was enjoying my life. I didn’t want to lose my husband either, because I was happy for the first time in my life.”

Long Record of Nonviolent Crime

St. Pierre has a long record of passing bad checks, credit-card fraud and other nonviolent crime, and she has had to give up all four of her babies for adoption, the Canadian program reported.

But the Kingston Parole Board granted her early release in 1983 to give her a chance of establishing a normal life.

“I would vote exactly the same way again,” parole board member Malcolm Stienburg said recently.

“That type of offender is really crippled socially. There’s a thousand Marilyn St. Pierres out there, and if something isn’t done to break the pattern, they’re going to keep coming back.”

Documentary Praised

Kastner’s documentary won high praise from Stienburg and other correctional authorities, and one television critic said it may be “the finest 90 minutes of the current TV season.” Kastner has won three Emmys, more than any other Canadian.

Titled “Prison Mother, Prison Daughter,” the program was the third in a trilogy of films about Canadian jails, also picked up by the Public Broadcasting System in the United States for its “Frontline” series.

Kastner and prison authorities said they were satisfied that the presence of a television crew had no influence on St. Pierre’s actions.

“She’s not that good an actress,” said federal Correctional Service spokesman Dennis Curtis.

Kastner had intended to focus on another prisoner when St. Pierre “sent word to me that she wanted us to film her story,” the producer said. He took an apartment near the Kingston prison while making the film.

Producer Had Mixed Feelings

The producer emerged from the project with mixed feelings.

“I went into it with certain liberal ideas about the prison system, but I came to understand how incredibly complex and messy the problems are. I don’t know what the answer is,” he said.

St. Pierre awaits escape charges and has the rest of a two-year sentence to serve for fraud.

“I don’t know where the rest of my life is going,” she told a reporter.

“All I wish is that they could just take me to the border and let me go and I’ll never come back.”